Parting Words
by Tobias Charity
Summary: Slash.


Title: Parting Words  
  
Author: Tobias Charity  
  
Sequel/Series: Sequel to I Plead the Fifth  
  
Spoilers: Claire's death, which is a bit of a 'duh' proposition  
  
Pairing/Relationship: Jack/Ben. I love the oddities in life.  
  
Rating: PG-13. This is SLASH! Plus some language, innuendo, references, etc. All that good stuff.  
  
Author's notes: In case it slipped by you the first time, this is SLASH. Two men in a relationship. Comprendo? If that ain't your bag, baby, boogie on over to my other stories.  
  
"How can I express/How confused I am by our happiness?/If I say I love him/You might think my words come cheap/Let's just say I'm glad he's mine/Awake or asleep/ We laugh, we fumble/We take it day by day/What more can I say?"-What More Can I Say, from *The Falsettos*  
  
  
  
Is it just me, or do I manage to royally screw up every relationship that I get involved in? First my ex-wife, then half of my other assistants, a couple of colleague's wives, Mike Logan, Claire Kincaid...and now Ben.  
  
I'd hated the bastard even before I met him. I had inherited the office, the assistant, and the problems. All of his little random scribblings and strewn about transcripts...Every single paper I picked up for months had his neat little handwriting all over it, and his signatures with the loopy Bs and perfectly crossed Ts. Even the way he organized the file cabinets pissed me off. And then I found out what he'd done to Mike.  
  
I loved Mike. Sometimes I think I still do, but I usually manage to shut those thoughts away. Mike sort of drifted away from me, after he got sent to Staten and our status as lovers plummeted down to acquaintances. But...Mike told me, about a month after we started sleeping together, that he had loved Ben Stone, and Stone had pushed him away, scorned him. I hated Ben for that, hated the quivering mess he made out of Mike. Sometimes I would wake up to find Mike pacing the room, his hair standing out at all angles and a pained, agonized expression on his face. Mike was normally so closed, so personal, and watching him slowly breaking down, eroding away like that was more than I could bear. I couldn't see for the life of me what he saw in that bastard, but I guess I figured it out for myself now.  
  
Ben was...intriguing. He was just so uptight, so cold, so relentlessly straight. I've always chased after men and women alike, and even if I'm turned down the first time I continue to insist. A relationship was more valuable to me if it was a challenge. But I've never consciously admitted that I wanted Ben Stone. I don't think I ever even subconsciously admitted it. But it was almost as if a switch was flipped when I saw him. I went from cold detachment to pure lust in sixty seconds. I had to have him. I didn't care how long it took me.  
  
Frankly, it surprised the hell out of me when he agreed to go out for drinks. I figured it would take weeks, if not months, of wheedling to get him to even nod hello to me. But he agreed almost immediately and the next thing I knew we were on my couch and my tongue was in his mouth. Of course, I'd had to feed him some crock about wanting to make up for trashing his reputation on the stand, but, hey, what's a little white lie if it lands Ben Stone in my bed?  
  
Anyways...damn, I just can't get him out of my mind. I keep on feeling his lips sliding over my own, down my neck and across my chest...In my personal opinion, kissing was always the best part of sex. Feeling your lovers lips, roaming across your body.now that is intimate. That and the post-coital routine that was unique to every one of my lovers. Claire would usually fall asleep right afterwards, and she would twine her long legs through mine, her head always on my chest...God, how I miss her. With Mike...I used to lean on his shoulder, and he would run his hands through my hair.it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Ben...Ben was different. It was special, somehow. I can't really describe it, because mere words would not serve justice.  
  
That first time we kissed stands out so starkly in my mind. We were sitting next to each other on my couch, so close we were almost touching, but not nearly close enough for my taste. Some stupid movie was on television, but I wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to it. The conversation lagged for a moment and we sat there in silence. Then Ben turned to me to say something, and I couldn't restrain myself any longer. My lips were on his, and he just sat there at first, cold and unresponsive, and I was terrified that he was going to pull away, leave me groping at nothing. Then his lips wavered and parted, and our tongues were twining together, erotic moans escaping from each of our throats. He fumbled at my top button and I undid his tie, and...Oh, God. He kept on moaning my name, hissing it out through gritted teeth as though he was trying to keep from crying out.  
  
Afterwards...we were sitting on the couch, and he was playing with my hair, just like Mike always did, weaving his fingers through the sterling strands; I was leaning my head against his chest, watching the lights flicker on and off in the buildings across the street. Sometimes I wish that I was back upstate with my daughter, when she was so much younger, and we'd sit out on the back porch, with her trying to count all the stars and me sitting there, content just to watch her. At any rate...I don't know what came over me. I--I can't believe that I asked him. I asked why, why he'd shunned Mike, why he'd pushed him away and what came over him to do such irreparable damage to a man so wonderful.  
  
The instant the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. Ben stared at me for a moment, and then extracted his hands from my hair. He said nothing, only reached for his boxers and pants, dragged them onto his body, and stood up, grabbed his coat, and left without saying anything at all.  
  
I'm just brilliant, aren't I? There we are, in the throes of post- coital affection, almost, but not quite, ready to give voice to the thoughts that had been plaguing us (or at least, plaguing me) for the past few weeks, during that horrible case in which I dragged him onto the stand, practically threatening him to get him to do what I wanted, and then I go and say something as stupid as that. No wonder I manage to royally screw up everything I've ever been involved in, considering that I'm such a cynical hardass. Mike's words, not mine. Mike's final, parting words. "You're a cynical hardass, Jack McCoy, and although I've never wished anyone but my mother would burn in hell, I'm starting to believe that's just the place for you." The door slammed, and he was gone.  
  
Parting words are always the most acid, biting, sharp, horrible words that are spoken in a relationship that has ended on a sour note, as Mike's and mine did, and as Ben's and mine is bound to end. After all, what more is there to be said when one lover simply walks out on the other? Besides, Ben is leaving to go back to the royal Stone estate in three days. He was only here for the trial.  
  
I think that I'm only just beginning to realize how badly I hurt Mike. After all, I was the one that pushed him away, I was the one that told him that he was a worthless cop if he couldn't even restrain his emotions long enough to refrain from punching a councilman. I'm not denying that the idiot deserved to get his face smashed in, especially by Mike, but still...Mike's been hurt too many times, by his mother, by Liz, by Ben, and then by me.  
  
I'm a complete and utter bastard, aren't I? I'm so incredibly absorbed in my own life that I don't even notice the problems of those around me. Abbie's called me a self-important son-of-a-bitch, right to my face, too many times for me to remember, and I can even recall Claire saying those words. Yes, I work for myself. Yes, I'm self-sufficient. No, I'm not the cold, heartless bastard that I seem and, yes, I do care about those that I feel are important enough to me for me to wager my emotions on.  
  
But parting words...First Claire's...about us never seeing eye-to-eye on anything. Goddammit, if only I'd waited a little longer in that dive, if only I'd have apologized to her before, if only I hadn't called her, she might be here today. But it would've never worked out. She was too damn young, and I'm not exactly the best looking fifty-five year old out there.  
  
And then Mike's final words, which I've already discussed. Sure, we talked after that, but only about pointless little things, just making chitchat for the pretense that it provided.  
  
Ben...Ben said nothing. Ben left no jewel, no glittering linguistic gem for me to remember him by. No parting words.  
  
Parting words. 


End file.
